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<title>Run Away With Me by CloudsMan</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26245801">Run Away With Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloudsMan/pseuds/CloudsMan'>CloudsMan</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>None - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, May or may not be gay, Short Stories, cloudy dabbles, just for fun</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 13:13:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>972</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26245801</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloudsMan/pseuds/CloudsMan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>She was beautiful, a goddess, a force to be reckoned with. But she couldn't have her.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Run Away With Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fingers grazing across my own, the lingering feeling of the warmth enough to cause me to realize just how cold I really was. Her touch is mesmerizing, soft and gentle but as her fingernails touch my skin they leave an aching feeling that grows every time that spot is touched once again.</p><p>I can’t help but allow the pull at my cheeks as my teeth appear. Just for her, always for her. This feeling has never arisen before, it feels foreign, almost wrong but so, so right at the same time. How could something so sinful be so pure and delicate? Looking into her eyes, I’m met with a pool of pure and raw emotion. Who would’ve known that sitting here, alone with her under the darkening sky as we leave our lives behind us and focus on the breathing, living being in front of us. Never daring to look away because this touch is so rare, so unreachable in the daily, bustling life that we both lead.</p><p>Away from the grabbing, needy hands that always reach where they’re forbidden. But her hands, which are so soft and familiar to me that I allow them to roam. There’s no limits for those hands, for everywhere they touch it feels as though sparks are shooting, sending a calming aura shivering through my entire body. They’re not rough, not claused so harshly that they no longer hold their originality. They’re the hands of a woman who’s only physical hardship has been the dishes and laundry on the weekend. Forbidden from holding a pencil or a mere thought. Her hands are yet to be plagued by the reality of the world.</p><p>Sitting with her under the rising moon, the breeze in the field is enough to remind me that I’m free, even if it’s only for the evening. She causes my heart to flutter unlike any man was ever able to. She causes me to realize that what I thought was love before, was in reality something that had been imprinted on me. It was different now, the old feelings of sickness and bile that would rise in my throat every time the rough scratch of facial hair or the deep, commanding voice that scolded and taunted. Tainted with the misinformation that he was given the world and deserved everything that was presented in front of him. A man’s world, where they’re entitled to everything they can touch.</p><p>I lean into her warm touch, allowing it to drench my side in the heat that radiates off her body. Her perfume smells like sunflowers, just like how her smile radiates the sun. Never before had I noticed how the many little things could make up a person. How if nobody was paying close enough attention, they could miss a flick of a finger or a scrunch of a brow. They could miss how in the arms of her husband, she seems so small and skittish, but as soon as mine are around her she fits perfectly. Muscles relaxed and a rare, genuine smile graced her lips and made her face one of the most beautiful and wholesome ones I’ve ever seen.</p><p>Her warmth graces my face, lips touching mine gracefully like they too don’t want to break the delicate flower in front of them. Eyes fluttering close, I welcome the excessive fluttering of the butterflies in my stomach. She’s the only one who can cause this, and instead of the uneasy feeling this motion usually gives me, it gives me hope, that maybe, one day this can be normal.</p><p>“Run away with me,” I breathe, pressing my forehead to hers as I pull away. I don’t miss the hesitation in her movements, how they slow down to a near halt when my words reach her.</p><p>Those soft hands clasp mine, and a giggle passes through my lips. When I open my eyes, those brown, nearly glowing eyes that I always find comfort in are staring back. She isn’t smiling.</p><p>“You know I can’t,” Delicate, carefully chosen words are shoved in front of me, “This is wrong, they’d burn us.”</p><p>An arrow shoots through my heart, but I’m fully aware that it’s the truth. Because outside of this field, this is wrong. This is a sin- a sin you can die for. Something very real, but in the hours of the night I had wished, hoped that it was gone. We could run away, be free and live our lives as we want to. Free from the invasive hands and away from discrimination. I realize that this life isn’t what I wish it could be. Maybe in another life I could call her my bride, but for now I can only wish under the moonlight.</p><p>The warmth from my side disappears, and her gentle hands pick up the dandelion I had brought. After a sad smile, with eyes filled with tears and forgotten hope, she places the flower in my lap. Turning, she begins to leave back for her farmhouse.</p><p>I reach, but the hand barely slips through mine. “Please, wait!” Her eyes don’t look back, and dress flowing in the breeze as she makes her way through the wheat, I watch my other half go back, to the life she despises. I curse to the stars, salty tears burning my eyes. I curse, screaming until God hears me. But he never does, and I watch the days pass. Waiting for her in the wheat field late at night, but the smile of sunshine and the sunflower smell never arrives.</p><p>Who can blame her? This is a sin. This is wrong, something that is forbidden. I watch from afar, as that genuine, pure and gentle smile never appears on her face again. And I weep, because I can’t protect my love. I can only watch from afar.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is just a little short story that came to my mind while procrastinating on an essay. I was in the mood to write a nearly-1000 word story but not in the mood to write even a paragraph if something due tomorrow :) Lovely how that turns out.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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